


Shot Heard 'Round The World

by Cassicio



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Military, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Established Relationship, F/F, Gun Violence, Lexa's a marine commander, Marine Corps, Marine!Lexa, Minor Character Death, Paralysis, Serious Injuries, Trigedasleng, artist!Clarke, ratings will change as the fic progresses I'm sure too, y'all are gonna hate me I'm fairly sure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-03-22 07:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3719956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassicio/pseuds/Cassicio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Clarke, we all think she'd want you to have these."</p>
<p>Her hands shook as she reached out to take the dog tags, nodding a silent thanks.</p>
<p>"I'll keep them safe until she gets back."</p>
<p>"Clarke, she's not-"</p>
<p>"Until she gets back," the blonde stated firmly. If only the words didn't sound so hollow with denial, even to her own ears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ai hod yu in

**Author's Note:**

> Who doesn't love a good modern soldier au?  
> Marine!Lexa, Artist!Clarke and a squad of familiar faces to be introduced later on.  
> I'm going to try and update again soon, but I'm outta country for the next week, so we'll have to wait and see how that goes.

Clarke blindly reached out to swat at her phone, annoyed that her alarm would dare wake her up on a Sunday. It shouldn't even have been set, especially not at... She sat up, squinting at the lit up screen.  _Six in the damn morning_ .

The blonde would blame the earliness of the time on her day off for not realizing sooner that, in fact, it was not her alarm waking her up. Instead there was a number gracing her lock-screen. One she would ignore, except that there would only be one of two reasons for it to be ringing that early. A serious emergency or-

"Hello." 

" _Hai, Ai Kwen_."

Or her girlfriend got the rare opportunity to actually call home.

"Lexa." 

The name came out more breath than word, all traces of exhaustion vanishing with the bubbling warmth that flooded her with the low, affectionate tones of her marine's voice filling her ear.

" _Sha, Clarke._ " Clarke could hear the smile in Lexa's voice, even in those few words.

 A groan of mock exasperation left her as she sat up fully and wrapped her arms around one leg, tugging it up against her chest and balancing the phone between her shoulder and ear. Her reply was playful, unable to mask the happy lilt even if she’d wanted to.

 "You know I don't speak that cryptic language you and your sister decided to create when you were like three years old."

 The quiet chuckle that reverberated from the phone next made her smile wider with accomplishment, though she was actually grateful to hear the marine switch back to English as she replied.

"You could understand it easily enough if you actually made an attempt, even Blake Jr. picked up on it pretty quickly." 

"That's because Octavia knows you speak more Trigeda- _whatever_ you and Anya named it, than anything actually comprehensible by someone outside of your squadron. Sometimes I swear it's your actual native language.”

“ _Trigedasleng_ , Clarke. And it’s good for keeping any unwanted listeners from understanding.”

“Future military code thought up by a three and eight year old, who would’ve thought?” 

“Not any of the enemy, which, I would like to point out, is a good thing. But, I didn’t call to continue talking about the war, Clarke.”

The artist took a deep breath as her stomach sunk at the reality of everything, feeling it all rushing back to her once more. The truth of her girlfriend risking her life every day, thousands of miles from where the former pre-med student could care for her. Of the months spent without being able to touch the other woman, hear her breathing or feel the strong pulse of Lexa’s heart beating against her fingertips or lips. 

“Sorry,” she whispered. 

“It’s okay, Clarke. I only mean that I’d rather hear about what’s happening at home. I miss hearing you rave about paintings even when you know I am always going to mix up Manet and Monet, no matter how many times you explain who they are and what they’ve done and how they are completely different.”

Clarke smiled, warmth returning at the familiar, affectionate exasperation in Lexa’s voice, even though she knew it was all to distract her from where her train of thought had been going.

“When you get home next month, I’m giving you a full education on all things famous art.”

 “Your faith in my ability to concentrate when you have your ‘passion for art’ face on is astounding. But when I get home, I will do whatever you want.”

“I’m going to hold you to that, because I’m also expecting to not leave our bed for at least two days first.”

That earned her a husky chuckle and hum of agreement, sending a shiver of anticipation down the woman’s spine. Shifting to reach for her sketchbook on the table beside the bed, Clarke flipped it to a fresh page, pulling a pencil from the well-worn spine and beginning to trace out the familiar contours of a sharp jaw and piercing gaze that matched the voice on the other end of the line as they continued to talk. The conversation was almost mundane, an update on the day-to-day goings on in both their lives and more of an excuse to stay on the line with one another than anything else, but Clarke knew neither of them _needed_ anything else in that moment. The comfort she took from just hearing Lexa’s voice was really more than enough and from the relaxed sound of Lexa's voice, the feeling was mutual.

The idea of thirty-eight days had never felt so long to the blonde before, but it would be worth it. The return was worth the wait every time. She hadn’t spent two months breaking through Lexa’s emotional walls and nearly three years together with the stubborn Marine Squad Commander, just to have things shatter because of distance. Her lover had been on one tour before this while they were already together and their relationship had come through unscathed. Both found themselves fitting together again as comfortably as before, even as Clarke mapped out each new scar on Lexa’s body with her fingers and lips on the night of her return. They would do so again, she had no doubts.

" _Ai hod yu in, Clarke_.” 

Clarke hadn’t realized that she’d gone silent at some point, sketching as she let her thoughts run and simply listened to Lexa’s voice. Those words hit her ears like a jolt of electricity, shocking her back out of her headspace. She almost made another teasing comment, but that particular phrase was one she’d never even be able to pretend not to understand and the honesty they were steeped in made her heart race.

“I love you too, Alexandria.”

She was about to continue when there was a sudden explosion of noise that made her jump and gaze dart around her bedroom, dropping the phone onto her sheets in the process and scratching a long, black line horizontally through the portrait sketch. It took her a moment to realizing the sound had come from the other end of the phone line and she quickly snatched it up once more, pressing the device hard against her ear.

 “Lexa?” The name came out frantically, but only shouting and an array of words being yelled overtop of one another could be heard, none that she could clearly understand.

One final series of sounds hit her before the line went dead, spilling fear and dread like ice down Clarke's spine, bile rising in her throat.

Gun shots.


	2. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She glared at it, willing it to move. But it did nothing.
> 
> Absolutely. Nothing.
> 
> That's when the panic fully set in.

Clarke sat back against the bathroom wall, knees pressed to her chest and arms wrapped as tightly around them as her eyes were screwed shut. She was shaking violently and soaked with sweat. The burning taste of bile still remained thick on her tongue from where she’d emptied the contents of her stomach at the peak of the panic attack that had erupted inside of her as soon as the reality of everything had sunk in.

The squad of mariness, full of her friends, was in danger. _Lexa_ was in danger. The sound of gunshots still ricocheted around in her head, making her stomach roll once more, but there was nothing left to come up. As it was, water and bile had been all there had been to escape and, if she were able to think of anything besides what had happened before her phone cut out, she’d probably be grateful she hadn’t eaten yet. 

The phone itself was now resting against the doorframe to the bathroom, seeming to taunt her. She’d scrambled to find the number and press redial as soon as the haze of shock had cleared, but froze over the call button. Realization of the added danger the ringing device might cause in the middle of the battlefield that had obviously become of Lexa’s camp forcing her to click off the screen instead.

_Battlefield._

That’s the word that had started the panic attack, invisible bands of steel seeming to wrap around her lungs and squeeze until each breath felt impossibly sharp in her lungs. Thinking of it again made a weak echo of the attack seize her again, but Clarke pressed her forehead into her knees and forced herself to take deep breaths.

 _Lexa would be okay. She always made it out. Her marine was one of the strongest people Clarke knew and she would come home._  

She repeated the thoughts over and over, not sure how long she sat there, though it was long enough for the tears she hadn’t been aware she’d shed to dry on her cheeks. Finally her breathing pattern evened out and the blonde tugged herself to her feet, using the counter for support when dehydration made the room spin slowly.

_Lexa was a fighter. She’s going to come home._

The words repeated on loop as Clarke methodically brushed her teeth and stripped to shower.

_Her girlfriend would do anything to keep her squad members alive. They would be safe and come home._

The shower water was nearly scalding when she stepped in, turning her skin to a bright red shade within thirty seconds, but Clarke hardly noticed the burn. Washing herself was almost a subconscious effort, as she was still focused on the silent mantra.

_They would be okay. She’d see them soon. Thirty-eight days. They would survive. She’d see forest green eyes full of love and affection in thirty-eight days. Laugh at the funnier stories as Octavia and Raven told them. Hear Bellamy talk about his latest fellow fighter girlfriend and talk with Lincoln about new medical developments overseas. She would feel soft, but firm lips against her own again and lose herself in the touch and feel of a tan, scarred and familiar body against her own._

Clarke blinked, suddenly realizing the water had grown lukewarm while she was giving herself the internal pep talk. Hurrying to wash her hair and body, she stepped out and dried off, not bothering to pick up the clothing or phone still laid out on the floor as she walked back to the bedroom. She felt almost like she was in a daze, unsure of how to conduct herself after what had happened that morning.

 _Clothes_ , she thought firmly. Lexa wouldn’t forgive her if Clarke didn’t at least take care of basic necessities, even while her own life was in danger. 

Considering her closet momentarily, Clarke turned away from it and pulled open a drawer full of slightly longer items, tugging out a worn pair of sweatpants with ROTC down one leg and MARINE down the other, letters peeling away due to age and wear. Next she slipped on a thin grey t-shirt and large hoodie with NM and MI placed on either side of the zipper. Lifting the edge of the hoodie to her nose, Clarke inhaled deeply, relaxing at the comforting smell of her girlfriend, which still was imbued in her clothing.

She was jolted from the comfort by the sudden sound of buzzing and ringing coming from the inside of her bathroom. Scrambling from her spot and nearly tripping over her own feet, Clarke scooped up the phone and hit answer without bothering to look at the screen.

“Lexa?” She asked desperately.

“Clarke, the general wishes to have a word with you." 

The words sent a sinking sensation into her gut, a worried whimper forced down before it could be given voice.

“Maya, what happened?”

“I think it would be best if he told you.”

“Maya-“

“Clarke, General Kane will explain everything.”

If only those words didn’t sound so foreboding.

“Okay.”

Her eyes closed tightly as she listened to the ringing of the phone being patched through, head tilting to press her nose against the cloth again and breathing deeply.

 

* * *

 

 

Lexa came to with a hiss of pain, rolling over onto her back to get off of the uncomfortable mass of something that she was laying on top of. She felt a kick at the bottom of her foot and lifted her head to glance down, eyes locking with a bruised and battered Anya leaning back against a dirty wall of concrete. Eyes widening, Lexa’s gaze continued to wander the space they were in. Three equally dirty walls stared back at her, one containing a heavy metal door with bars on the window and a tiny flap that could be used to push food through. 

Swallowing down any panic that was rising, she looked at what she’d been lying on with trepidation.

It was her right arm. Her right arm still attached, but she couldn’t feel it. Frowning, she glared at the limb, willing it to move. But the limb did nothing.

Absolutely. Nothing. 

That’s when the panic fully set in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, I got this chapter done and I really wanna post it before my laptop dies so here. It's unedited/beta'd sorry.  
> And also pretty short but I'm working on that. The next one will hopefully be longer, I just want you to know this wasn't some one off thing and would never be continued. I PROMISE I WILL KEEP WORKING ON IT (along with another fic I have in mind for post S2).


	3. Something In That

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You were shot. Just here. Twice.”
> 
> Lexa flinched reflexively, but there was no pain. She couldn’t even be exactly sure where Anya was touching her arm.
> 
> “That is all?”
> 
> “Leksa, it has torn a chunk from your arm.”
> 
> That stalled the Marine, a wave of nausea hitting her.
> 
> “I cannot feel it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All Trigedasleng is in italics, because as much as I like to believe I'm slowly grasping the language... I'm not that good.

“ _I can’t—I can’t move._ ” Lexa swallowed down more words, along with the tightness forming in her throat. Panicking would help nothing in this situation, and first priority was to find out exactly what this situation was. Lexa could reason out that she’d been captured, along with Anya, but the squad commander had no idea how far they had been brought from their base, or what had happened to the rest of her team. Anya had obviously been awake longer than her, perhaps had some more knowledge about their predicament. She’d get the report from her sister and then could focus on other things.

This series of thoughts now organized in her head, Lexa took another deep breath and rolled back over, pressing her left hand into the ground and pushing up, struggling against the dead weight of her right limb in order to get up on her knees. She felt arms steady her as she sat back on her heels.

“ _Careful, or you will start bleeding again.”_

_“Again?”_

_“You were shot. Just here. Twice.”_

Lexa flinched reflexively, but there was no pain. She couldn’t even be exactly sure where Anya was touching her arm.

_“That is all?”_

_“Leksa, it has torn a chunk from your arm.”_

That stalled the Marine, a wave of nausea hitting her.

_“I cannot feel it.”_

 

* * *

 

“Clarke, I cannot just give you all the details you want because you are Abby’s daughter. And that isn’t why I called you.” 

“I’m not asking for details of the actual attack. All I’m asking is for the status of the soldiers.”

“Clarke-“ 

“Kane, _please_. They’re my family.”

“Not legally, Clarke.”

“Are you telling me that I was not placed as next of kin for nearly all of them? Octavia? Bellamy? Raven? And the others wouldn’t want this kept from me. Lex- Captain Hawthorne wouldn’t keep this from me.”

Clarke expected Kane to argue back at her about trying to pull the girlfriend card, preparing further arguments. She wouldn’t stop pressing until she knew how Lexa and the others were doing. However, instead of snappy words, she was greeted with a tired sigh from the other end of the line. The sound made her gut clench, nerves frayed nearly to the breaking point. 

“You are right, Clarke. Captain Hawthorne would want you to know the status of your friends.”

‘Would. Past tense.’ The blonde immediately shoved that thought back to the furthest recesses of possibility in her mind. ‘No, Lexa wasn’t-‘ her jaw flexed as she couldn’t even finish the sentence in her head.

“Remember that you asked for this Clarke, so I’m going to be blunt. There were several casualties. Those on watch duty were cut down not long after rotation, hence the ability of sudden ambush.”

Clarke’s mind raced, trying to remember who should’ve been on watch post that night.

“Gunnery Sergeant Gustus was lost and First Lieutenant Reyes was severely injured.”

“Raven…”

“One of our medics was also lost. Collins.”

Clarke felt her breath catch. Finn. Her ex-boyfriend was dead. Raven was injured and her only family dead. Her chest felt tight once again, but she was quick to blink away the burn of tears and swallowed tightly. Mourning the loss could happen after she knew how the rest of her friends were doing.

“Quint Straus, Caris Agape, Sienne Rowan and Tris Patrickson were also on watch and lost.”

Tris, it had been her first tour. Lexa had told her about Anya taking the girl under her wing.

“The others are all under medical surveillance and being sent home, except for…”

Hearing Kane trail off hesitantly, dread pooled in Clarke’s stomach once again. 

“Except for?”

“Clarke—“  
  
“Marcus, please.”

“Captain and Staff Sergeant Hawthorne were both reported missing in action.”

 

* * *

 

Lexa braced her uninjured shoulder against the wall, tipping her head back to relax as much as she could. This was not the time to panic. She had no idea if Anya and herself were the only ones kidnapped, or what had happened to the rest of her squad. Hell, she had no idea where they were or who had taken them. The Captain’s jaw clenched, the nails of her left hand digging into the wrist of her right, frustration only mounting as she felt no pain. The action only ceased when she felt warm liquid against her fingertips. Glancing down, Lexa watched the blood seep out of the marks sluggishly. Still, there was no sensation of pain, she couldn’t even feel the blood against her skin.

They were prisoners of war, god knows where and she was crippled.

_“Sis, further injuring yourself won’t help.”_

_“I can’t even feel it, can’t make it any worse.”_

A sharp, though surprisingly gentle, smack connected with the back of her head, rocking Lexa’s head forward slightly.

_“Don’t be an idiot. These nomonjokas can’t see you off your game. Do you want to get out of here or not?”_

_“Are we even likely to get out of here?”_

_“Shut the fuck up. Don’t talk like that. We’ll figure something out.”_

More words were cut off by a loud scraping noise across the floor outside the door and then a tray was being shoved through the flap of the door. Two bowls of something that looked a lot like the ‘oatmeal’ served to her and Anya at the orphanage, followed up by two dented, rusty tin cups of water.

_“Told you that stuff they served us at the home was prison food.”_  

Lexa couldn’t hold back a snort of amusement at Anya’s words.

_“If I remember correctly, those were my words and you always told me to just shut up and eat.”_

_“Going to try the same thing here?”_

_“No, we need to keep our strength up as best as possible if we’re going to make it out of here.”_

She watched the corners of Anya’s mouth press up into the smallest of smiles and offered a genuine one of her own. Her sister was right. They couldn’t just give up. They’d survived impossible odds before, they at least have to try to do so again. Taking to bowl offered her, she tipped it back against her lips, trying to swallow quickly and taste as little as possible. A shudder still rolled down her spine and she had to force back the gag reflex. Stopping to take a breath, she licked her lips and swallowed down the lingering urge to throw up.

_“I actually think this might be better than the shit at home.”_

Another laugh left her. At least she had Anya there with her, even if it was a horrible thought. Of all people to be stuck in this situation with, Anya could be her voice of reason and still make her laugh. There was something in that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nomonjoka - Motherfucker
> 
> And LOOK it's an update, isn't that a miracle? Yeah, sorry about the wait. I will try my utmost to make the next chapter come much faster.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:
> 
> "Hai, Ai Kwen." - Hi, My Queen.  
> "Sha, Clarke." - Yes, Clarke.  
> "Ai hod yu in, Clarke.” - I love you, Clarke.
> 
> So... Love me? Hate me? Thoughts? Critiques? Complaints? Compliments?
> 
> Reviews are to me what unradiated oxygen is to the mountain men, I need it to live... Okay, not completely, but like... they keep me motivated so that's always a plus. Do tell. Please.


End file.
